


Supernatural one-shots

by emma23416



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, fluff af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emma23416/pseuds/emma23416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is Dean's six-year-old son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fever

The door handle squeaked. Dean shot up in his desk chair, hearing the reverberation through the silent house. He'd forgotten. Cursing himself, he dropped his pen and stood, then ran across the house as he heard the door shut, followed by soft footsteps. "Cas, honey. Home already!"

Tightly bundled up in a thick warm jacket, boots and hat stood a young child. His cheeks flushed pink from the snow and negative temperatures outside on his walk home from the bus stop. Dean ran toward Cas and enveloped him in a hug, kneeling on the floor. "You're freezing, buddy." Cas smiled weakly in return. Dean moved back to tug off the knitted cap, and Cas's dark brown hair fell over his head wildly. Dean ran a hand through it to smooth it out, then took off Cas's backpack and swiftly pulled down the zipper to remove his freezing jacket. "I'm so sorry I missed it. I wasn't even paying attention--"

Cas sniffled. 

Then he tried to cover it by wiping the back of his hand against his nose. He hadn't said a word to his father yet. Ashamedly, he looked to the rug and attempted to stifle a short cough. 

"Hey," Dean called. Cas met his eyes silently. Dean's hand meandered toward Cas's forehead, checking for sickness even though Cas still shivered from walking outside. "Are you feeling okay?" 

Cas coughed feebly again. He made an effort to grin and nod his head. "Yeah, 'm okay, dad." Sniffle. 

Sighing, Dean turned Cas around by the hips and pulled him into his lap. Castiel's chin tucked down against his chest while he watched Dean untie the laces of his boots and slide them off, laying them neatly in the shoe closet. It was a mystery to Cas why Dean always helped him with his shoes even though Cas was perfectly capable, but he accepted it. Dean swept Cas's small form up into his arms before he had a chance to move. Dean's warm skin heated Castiel through his dad's gray T-shirt, so Cas relaxed and wrapped his arms around Dean's torso. Dean carried him across the house and plopped him onto the couch, across from the warm fireplace. 

"Cas," Dean stroked a finger over the child's cheek, "you need to tell me if anything is wrong. Did someone say something mean to you? Or you're sure you don't feel sick?" He didn't want to consider the possibility that Cas was upset about Dean making him walk home. He felt guilty for it, but then Cas got this heartbroken look like he had done something wrong rather than Dean. "It's okay. Just talk to me, sweetheart."

Cas's lip began quivering. "I...," he started, then reached for the blanket bunched at his feet and drew it over his head. Hiding from Dean beneath it, he sniffled again. He curiously listened to Dean's footsteps travel to the bathroom and back to the sofa. Dean plucked the blanket from his head and placed it over the rest of his body. He opened a box of Kleenexes and set them next to Cas as an offering. Giving Cas some privacy, he left to prepare tea in the kitchen. 

Cas liked tea. It could be because Dean drank tea, and one day Cas had asked if he could try it, too. But Cas would drink it, so Dean brewed an herbal tea for the cold season, pouring in honey and stirring. When he returned to Cas, the blanket was pulled over his shoulders and two used Kleenexes sat on the floor. "Here. Careful, it's a little hot." 

Cas took the cup with a relieved sigh and pulled it to his face, smelling it. Dean took a seat on the cushion next to Cas and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him in to lean on Dean. Cas's back pressed against Dean's side, and he gazed into the fireplace, taking careful sips from his cup. Gently, Dean stroked his son's arm, occasionally sliding his hand to Cas's neck and back down. 

Castiel pitched forward abruptly with a spluttering cough. Dean placed a hand on his back and took the cup to stop it from spilling. "It's alright," he soothed. Cas's coughing fit ended, and Dean reached for a tissue, handing it to Cas. The child used it gratefully and slumped back deep into the chair. 

"I'm going to take your temperature." Dean decided. While he rose to search for the thermometer, a sneeze punched the air behind him. He hurried to find it and get back to Cas quickly. He preferred to spend as much time with his kid as possible, especially now that he was developing a cold. Dean wanted to support him in any ways he could.

Immobile on the couch, little Cas looked lazy and unfocused, eyes slightly hooded and threatening to close. Dean reluctantly forced him to sit up, placing a palm on his forehead. Cas drooped forward into Dean's touch. He was warm. He felt hot. "Here, open your mouth."

Following instructions, Cas allowed the probe to land underneath his tongue and enclosed it in his mouth. He impatiently observed Dean's face as his father waited for the temperature to climb. And then climb more. 

"Okay." Dean slid the thermometer from Cas's mouth and set it aside. His brow furrowed in concern. As if double checking, he felt Cas's forehead again, which warmed his hand. 

"What did it say, dad?" Cas asked before he could relax. 

"You're running a fever." Dean sank back into the couch and extended toward a TV remote sitting on a short nightstand, clicking on the television in the corner of the room. The news came on, and he left it on that channel. 

Cas didn't know what 'fever' meant. Sighing, he curled onto one of Dean's thighs and used his other thigh as a pillow. Castiel probably had the most comfortable dad of any of the kids at school. He sniffled again and realized that he couldn't fall asleep unless his mouth hung uncomfortably open. Regardless, he couldn't fight the sluggishness that wrestled him down, and his eyelids fluttered shut as sleep encompassed him. 

Dean's fingers landed in Cas's hair, softly combing the strands while he slightly paid attention to the TV. The heat that radiated from the fire, and from Cas, lulled Dean into closing his eyes. Before he knew it, Cas's soft puffs of breath on his leg brought him to sleep.

>>>

He awoke groggily to a restless stirring against his chest as Cas twisted, unconscious, from side to side. At some point Dean had shifted to lay on his back, and Castiel folded into his front with his tiny hands reaching between Dean and the couch's backrest for maximum warmth. Dean strained, drawing up onto his elbows, to see the clock over the rim of the couch. 6:00. It'd been about two hours since he'd fallen asleep. The news still played on the television-- a man in Pennsylvania had been arrested for armed robbery. Dean fumbled to retrieve the remote and quickly shut it off, then turned his attention to Cas who fitfully squirmed in his sleep. 

Dean couldn't wake him. Cas had a fever, and he needed sleep. It was vital to his recovery. The question was, should Dean stay with Cas, or get up to make supper and risk waking him up? Unfortunately, Castiel did not slumber deeply. He wiggled and shifted from resting his right cheek on Dean's chest to his left, and Dean touched his forehead sympathetically, feeling how it burned up. Dean heard Cas breathing through his mouth, probably making his throat and tongue dry. His hand traveled through Cas's hair until it rested at the back of his neck. Cas faintly whimpered, and his shoulders shook as he shivered for a few seconds.

Definitely staying. 

With his free hand, Dean tugged the blanket tightly over Cas's shoulders and pushed at his upper back to draw him in closer to Dean for warmth. Cas's hair tickled Dean's chin when he snugly enfolded Cas in his arms. Cas shivered again. Delicate and fragile and burning hot. Dean wished he could help more. 

Cas lay silent, still, his body calmed down, for an indefinite number of minutes. The fire glowed dimly, and the blanket draped over Cas and Dean rose and fell in time with Cas's inhalations. Dean held Cas's hip where a sliver of his hot skin was exposed beneath his shirt. 

The silence broke when Cas released a cough. Dean guessed that twenty-five minutes had passed laying awake. He tried to use stealth, detaching himself from Cas and rolling him over slowly, slowly, until Dean was off the couch and Cas lay in the warm area where Dean had been. Cas dazedly opened his eyes at the loss of his father. Too sick to speak, he groaned irritably. 

"Shhh." Dean rubbed his shoulder. "Cas, I'm going to the store quick. I'm gonna get you some cough drops and ingredients for soup. I just want you to stay here and rest, okay? And you know the rules. Don't answer the door for anyone. I'll just be back in a minute." He placed a brief kiss on the top of Cas's head. Cas choked on a pained cough, nodding in response, then his eyelids drooped and he immediately succumbed to sleep once more. Dean sped out of the house, grabbing his wallet and jacket and flying to the car. 

The heater in the truck automatically blasted on full power. Dean drove to the convenience store and swiftly found the items he needed for chicken and dumpling soup. On a whim, he also picked up Vicks rub to help Cas's breathing. 

Rushing into the house, Dean set down the grocery bags and made sure Cas was okay where he napped on the couch. Cas repositioned himself slightly but otherwise did not move. Dean was content to begin preparing food in the kitchen while Cas slept longer. 

After another twenty minutes chopping vegetables and waiting for the pot to heat, Dean turned the stove off and moved the soup aside. He set some raspberries from the refrigerator on the table to get Cas some vitamin C. 

Somewhat reluctantly, he returned to his son and nudged his bicep a few times. "Cas." 

Cas scrunched his eyes shut. 

Dean shook his arm with more force. "Honey. You're gonna have to come eat." 

Blinking into focus, Cas lazily reached for a Kleenex to blow his nose. Then he took the box in his hand and looked to Dean expectantly. Dean had no qualms about carrying Cas around the waist and sitting him at the table. Yes, his child was spoiled. 

Cas chewed slowly. He liked crackers in his soup, but not many. Before he took spoonfuls, he blew on them to make them cool. His gaze stayed on his food the whole time, looking unfocused and miserable. 

"I got you this medicine." Dean showed Cas the bottles. He pointed to the one with the blue label. "This will help you sleep." 

When Cas finished eating, Dean handed him a cough drop from the bag. "Suck on this; don't eat it."

Cas unwrapped it and hesitantly placed it in his mouth. After a moment he decided it didn't taste bad, then he realized it felt really good on his throat. He swept it with his tongue back and forth between his cheeks, briefly energized.

Dean chuckled at Cas's facial expression. "Do you want to do something for a while? I have time. We could watch a movie..."

"Yeah. A movie." Cas agreed. "You pick one." He lifted his soup bowl and walked to the sink, but wavered dizzily in his steps. 

"Hold on, there. You need to go lie down." Dean commanded, confiscating the bowl and setting it in the sink. "I'll find us a movie."

Once Cas was settled on the couch, this time with two blankets, Dean chose Harry Potter, the first movie. They'd both seen it probably a hundred times, but that was okay. He pressed 'play' on the DVD player and sat down next to Cas. Hedwig's theme filled the living room. Cas comfortably burrowed against Dean under the blankets and watched, for the hundredth time, the Dursley shenanigans. 

Sometimes he coughed and reached for a cough drop. His favorite character was Hermoine. When she appeared, he smiled, but he also leaned heavily against Dean like he was on the verge of falling asleep again. 

An hour into the movie, Dean said, "You should take that medicine now, Cas." He stood and retrieved the cold medicine and a water bottle. He measured out the proper dosage and told Cas to drink. Cas made a face like he'd tasted a lemon but drank the liquid quickly anyway. After Dean took the bottle and sat, Cas fell over him as if the effect had taken place immediately. He didn't face the TV anymore; he straddled Dean's legs with his nose against Dean's neck. 

"You're very tired, aren't you?" Dean commented. His hand rested on Cas's back. "And hot."

Cas didn't understand why his dad said he was too hot. He was freezing, actually. Every once in a while he'd burn up, but most of the time he was colder than he'd ever felt. There wasn't a chance he was willing to retreat to his own cold, dark bedroom tonight for who knows how long until morning. No, he'd rather stay with his dad and stall as long as possible. He's had to ask to sleep in his father's bed with him before, but that was different. That was when he was younger. Maybe Dean wouldn't allow it anymore. 

Cas became uncertain and told himself that it would be okay and that Dean wouldn't reject him... right? His dad wouldn't carry him to bed, turn off the light and abandon him in the big room while he shivered and couldn't sleep. Cas was too tired to worry, so he lodged against Dean and dozed. 

Dean waited for Cas's breathing to slow and even out. He watched Harry Potter with Cas laying on him until he started getting drowsy, too. The movie ended, then the credits ended and the title screen played. 

Dean grudgingly stood, holding Cas in his arms, and turned the TV off. He gathered everything Cas might need-- Kleenexes, water, Chapstick, VapoRub-- and hurried to Cas's room. When Dean deposited Cas onto the bed, he unloaded the pile of supplies on the nightstand. He arranged Cas so that a blanket covered him, then kissed his forehead. He'd have to come check on Cas later, make sure he didn't overheat. Just as Dean was prepared to leave, Cas stirred and yawned. Dean stopped. 

"Dad? Are you going?" 

"Yeah," Dean affirmed, leaning over the bed to thumb Cas's cheek. "You can come and let me know if you get too hot or too cold."

Cas tried to stop himself from pouting in dismay. "Do... Do I have to stay?" He croaked, looking at anything but Dean. 

Frowning, Dean asked, "What do you mean?" Realization lit his face. "You want to sleep somewhere else?"

Eyelids heavy, the boy agreed. "Uh-huh." 

"With me?"

Cas lifted his arms and pulled himself up by Dean's shoulders. With a small laugh, Dean hauled Cas out of the bed and carried him, grabbing his stuff again. Cas slumped over Dean in relief. He closed his eyes as Dean walked, focusing on the rhythmic steps until they stopped and soft cushions surrounded Castiel. He loved the big bed. 

This time, instead of draping Cas in a blanket, Dean showed Cas a small container that he unscrewed to reveal a gel substance. 

"I want to put this on you first. It should help." Dean slowly pulled at the hem of Cas's shirt until Cas raised his arms, and Dean took it over his head. "Turn around."

Castiel twisted so Dean could reach his back. A dollop of the stuff touched Cas's skin in a pleasant shock. Dean rubbed some in with his fingertips, and it was cold and warm at the same time. When instructed to turn around again, Cas flopped down on his back with a contended hum. Dean finished applying the gel to Cas's chest and neck. 

"Alright. Shirt on." Dean ordered. 

"Too hot," Cas mumbled into the sheets as he crawled under the covers. 

Dean rolled his eyes, laying the shirt by the headboard for when he knew Cas would start shivering in a few minutes. He turned off the ceiling light and followed Cas into the bed. Cas curled up on his side facing the wall. As Dean settled behind him, an unexpected gasp escaped Cas. 

"Dad, I can breathe!" He proclaimed in astonishment, wriggling toward Dean to steal his body heat. "How'd you do that..." He muttered, voice trailing off. 

Cas was like a furnace. Dean's chest aligned with Cas's back, and Dean wrapped an arm over Cas's midsection. 

They absorbed each other's heat. Dean felt guilty to think so, but it was pretty awesome. 

"'Night, Cas." Dean whispered into Cas's dense hair. "Love you."

Cas was asleep.

And Cas remained sick and shivering for another week, forcing Dean to share his bed and pillow with his son for that length of time, plus a few extra nights for good measure.


	2. Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!

"This one? Do you know what it means? Dean unfolded the cotton shirt with a colorful design on the front. 

"Well, the kids at school talk about it. That's Steve." Cas pointed to the cubic man running with an axe. 

After stuffing themselves with Chinese food at the mall, Cas and his father had walked to the department store, Dean commenting on how Cas didn't have enough clothes to wear. 

Dean chuckled. "Right. I didn't know you were into these games."

Cheeks slightly pink in embarrassment, Cas shrugged. "I hear about Minecraft a lot."

Dean raised an eyebrow. Those kids at school had told Cas about a lot of things Dean didn't like, such as that one time Cas got embarrassed when Dean kissed him because the kids at school told him that kissing was just for adults. "Yeah? Would you like to play it? That could probably be arranged." He re-folded the T-shirt and set it back on its display. 

Castiel clasped his hands behind his back uncomfortably. He didn't like asking for things because it always made him feel somehow indebted. "Um, we don't have to..."

Dean guided Cas with a hand on his shoulder. "But there's gotta be some game you'd like to play. Maybe I could show you some." He suggested, navigating through the maze of tiny superhero and Mario shirts. So far he had convinced Cas to choose one light yellow dress shirt and one pair of pants. Neither of them really liked shopping.

A vibrantly colored shirt on the opposite side of the store's walkway grabbed Cas's attention. It was surrounded by sparkly and frilly pink displays of peace signs and bunnies, so he averted his eyes, not wanting to be caught showing interest in the little girls' section. However, Dean noticed his wandering eye. 

"Do you like one of those ones?" Dean wasn't finding much potential with the boys' clothing anyway. Too much pixelated pick-axe game merchandise. 

Cas stared at the floor, shuffling his feet, trying to hide his burning cheeks.

"Hey," Dean said softly, brushing Cas's elbow. "It's okay if you do. How about we at least take a look?"

Reluctantly, Cas followed Dean who took his hand and led him out of the boys' section and into new racks of, primarily pink, clothing. 

Dean surveyed some of the shirts toward the back of one of the racks, pulling a few out for Cas to see. "This one's blue. You like blue, right?" 

A little girl wandered down the adjacent aisle with her mother, and Cas was sure they could see him. They probably thought we was lost, a fool for ending up in the wrong section. But they kept walking, and all they were really concerned about was what color jeans the girl should get. 

"Um," Cas squeaked, gesturing to the colorful shirt. "I kind of like this one. With the butterflies."

"Yeah? Me too." Dean didn't hesitate, grabbing the hanger and holding the shirt up to Cas's chest. "It looks small enough, I think. It probably fits." 

Cas smiled. He eventually decided to take the light blue top, too, if it meant he could get out of this place. At the checkout, the lady didn't comment on it, just asked if Dean had a Macy's card and smiled politely. 

Dean and Cas passed a Barnes & Noble bookstore on their way out of the mall. Cas glanced at the displays, checking for books he might like, but didn't see anything noteworthy. He scurried after Dean to the car. 

Once they were home, Dean made him try on everything at the last opportunity before he took off the tags. Cas put on his butterfly shirt last and didn't take it off. Dean reached under the collar and carefully pulled off the tag, which tickled Cas's neck. 

Dean tossed the tags into the trash bin and walked to the kitchen, saying, "Okay, Cas. I'm breaking into the stash now. We've got work to do."

This perplexed Castiel. His father soon came back with a grin, a large bag of gummy bears, and a stack of playing cards. "Alright, I have gummy bears for you," Dean negotiated, "if you let me teach you how to play cards."

Castiel nodded enthusiastically, staring wide-eyed at the bag of gummy bears, then at his dad, then back at the bag. Dean ruffled his hair and set the bag on the kitchen table. He pulled up chairs for Cas and himself, then shuffled the card deck. 

Not wanting to torture his son with the sight of gummy bears any longer, Dean tore open the packaging and scooped some into his hand before offering the bag to Cas. 

"Hmm, what should we play?" Dean mused after Cas had eaten a few gummy bears. They stockpiled the candy between them on the table for easier access. "Oh, you'll like this one." Dean dealt both of them seven cards. "It's called Go Fish. Your goal is to get pairs of the same cards. Take any pairs you have and set them down, like this." He laid down two of his 3's face-up. 

Cas looked at Dean's hands. One of them held five cards fanned out neatly. Cas was struggling to hold his cards in a way that he could see them all; clearly he didn't have enough experience to do so. 

"You can lay them down. I won't look at them," Dean said, noticing his conflict.

Spreading his cards out on the table, Castiel found two matching 6's and two matching Queens. 

"Two pairs, nice." Dean finished chewing a few gummy bears. "Now it's your turn. You ask me if I have a card that matches one of yours."

Cas asked if Dean had a nine. Dean told him to go fish, then explained that Cas had to pick a card from the deck and see if it would give him a matching pair. 

Cas sighed when he didn't get a match and ate some more gummy bears. Dean had to go fish next time, and then on the next round Cas got another match. 

Eventually Cas asked if Dean had any A's, and Dean couldn't stop his short laugh. 

"They're called Aces, Cas. Sorry, I don't have any."

But Cas won the first game. And the second game Cas won, too. 

"Huh. Maybe I should give you candy more often," Dean commented. 

When Dean mentioned candy, Cas couldn't resist eating more. Then he dealt the next round, very slowly compared to Dean. Finally Dean won the third game, but Cas didn't seem upset about losing, just hungry. He took a red gummy bear, which he was discovering was his favorite. 

Castiel had a fairly balanced diet. He trusted Dean, who told him what most parents told their kids, that milk would make his bones strong and he had to eat his vegetables whether he liked it or not, which made Dean feel okay about letting Cas have a treat today. Together they'd already eaten half of the bag that Dean had thought would be impossible to finish. 

They played a fourth game, but Cas started looking bored rather than excited when he got pairs. 

"Hey, maybe we should ease up on the bears. How about some Graham Crackers?" Dean suggested, standing up to search for the Graham Cracker box and leaving the bag of gummy bears with Cas anyway. 

Cas took six red gummy bears, afraid that his father wasn't going to let him eat any more of them, and while Dean's back was turned, he ate them quickly, one after another. Dean returned from getting the crackers out of the cupboard to see his son chewing fast, mouth full of candy. 

"Don't eat too many of those, sweetie. I don't want you to get a stomachache. Remember last time?" 

Castiel eventually stopped chewing and gulped down the sugary food, pouting. 

"Just Graham Crackers now, okay?" Dean set down the cracker package and patted Cas's head, leaning down behind him. He stroked Cas's hair and kissed the top of his head, murmuring, "Do you want to keep playing or do something else?" His palms rested on Cas's shoulders in an embrace as he waited. Castiel yawned. 

"Don't we have some board games downstairs?" Cas asked lethargically. He was very warm when his dad held him. He also may have eaten too much candy. 

"Yeah, I bet you're old enough now to play more of those. Do you want to go look at them with me?"

Cas nodded and reluctantly pulled away from Dean. He stood and shuffled across the floor until he reached his room where he slid on his slippers, then kept walking to the shelf with the games on it. 

They only had a few games. Cas used to play Guess Who? sometimes, or he'd convince Dean to let him play Monopoly even though they never followed any rules because Cas could hardly count to ten. Thinking about how he used to fumble through half-games of Monopoly, Cas reached for the box above his head, then took it back with him right where he had come from. Dean followed, surprised that Cas had chosen a game so quickly. 

The game would have to be set up, Cas knew. He was getting sleepy, however, and the table did not look comfortable, so he laid the game down in the middle of the living room floor and sat cross-legged next to it. After opening the box, he unfolded the game board and set it out. Dean sat down on the opposite side of it, placing the Graham Crackers between himself and Cas. 

Castiel liked toy money. It wasn't that fact that he was playing with fake money that was appealing; it was the paper. It was cut crisply, and Cas didn't know if it was a thinner paper than he usually handled, but it fit into his small hands well and smoothly as he picked up a few of the orange ones, then looked at Dean questioningly. "How many of these?"

Dean had already found the instruction guide and leafed through the pages, then found the starting dollar amounts and said, "Those are the 500s. We both need two of them."

Castiel made a pile of two for Dean and a pile for himself. 

"The next ones are 100s. Those are also two."

Cas made piles for each color, two 100s, two 50s, six 20s, five 10s, five 5s, and five 1s in each. Dean set out the Chance, Community Chest, and property cards. 

Castiel would be the "banker". He was torn between the dog piece and the iron piece and decided on the iron. Dean chose the old car and set it on the Go square. 

Dean had to teach Cas how to play as this was his first time attempting to play by the rules. He instructed Cas to roll the dice and count the number of dots they showed, then guided Cas in moving the iron piece nine spaces, onto Connecticut Avenue. 

"Now you can buy it if you want." 

Cas rubbed his eyes and determined how to reach $130 with the leafy colored bills, then deposited them into the bank. Dean gave him the property card, which Cas set next to his money piles. While Dean rolled on his turn, Castiel lazily reached for a Graham Cracker and munched on it. 

Dean rolled a four. 

He paid $200 to the bank. 

Cas rolled a six and purchased another property for $200. Dean told him to roll again because he had doubles, two threes on his dice. Cas rolled a five and landed on the Free Parking space. Apparently nothing happened there; it was just free parking. 

Dean landed on the Jail space, but he was just visiting. Castiel leaned across the board to reach the dice and shook them. 

Dean found a pillow behind him and tossed it next to Cas. Adding the numbers on the dice, Castiel gratefully lay on his belly with his chin propped up on the pillow. He landed on another property and bought it. He knew that it was possibly unwise to spend all of his money buying places, but somehow he didn't care about that. 

As Dean took his turn, his muscles reminded him that, while he was by no means old, he wasn't as young as he once was. Sitting on his ankles hurt his ankles, and sitting on his butt hurt his butt. Plus, he had to reach across the game board on each of his turns to move his piece. He rolled a seven and picked up a Community Chest card, then sighed after reading,"Doctor's fees - Pay $50." Cas noticed that Dean hadn't bought a single property yet but had lost $250 to the game. 

On his next turn, Cas passed Go. Dean told him to take $200 from the bank.

"...Why?"

"Because you passed Go."

Castiel took his $200. "Why do you get money for passing Go?"

"Because you need to get money from somewhere."

Over the next few turns, Dean purchased a few properties and had to pay rent on some of Cas's, and all the while Cas's eyelids drooped. He looked ready to fall asleep there on the floor. 

"We don't have to keep playing if you're bored." Dean said.

"No, I'm not bored. I like this game." Cas shook the dice sluggishly. "'M just tired." It actually wasn't very late but apparently gummy bears wore Cas out.

"Do you want to come lay by me? We can get you a blanket." Dean patted the space in front of him. 

Eagerly, Castiel scooted across the floor while Dean retrieved a blanket and unfolded it. He spread the blanket over them both, Cas laying on his side facing the board with Dean pressed behind him, one arm over his midsection. Dean had to get a pillow for himself so he could see the board from behind Cas. He had no idea how they would continue the game while laying down, but Cas managed to move his piece well enough. 

Finally Cas landed on a property that he couldn't afford, and Dean didn't want to get into mortgages because then the game would last all night, so he told Cas he couldn't buy it. Cas owned about half of the properties and already had a Monopoly on light blue, and Dean owned only about a quarter of the properties. 

Cas's sleepiness was contagious. For as well as he was doing in the game, he kept shifting back against Dean's chest and dozing. Dean would absently pet his hair and then Cas would realize that it was his turn and wake up. On one of his turns, instead of paying rent on Dean's property, he flipped over to face Dean and tucked his head under Dean's jaw, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. 

He didn't know how _long_ of a game Monopoly was. 

Dean held him there as he gave in to sleep, feeling his son's cheek tickle his Adam's apple. He pulled the blanket up over Cas's arms and rubbed his upper back in slow circles. Cas unconsciously hummed in contentment, flush against Dean's chest. Dean kissed the top of his head and lay still with Cas's breaths grazing his neck. Minutes passed in which they stayed motionless until Cas fell asleep. Through the window it was dark outside, and Cas being so warm and snuggly made Dean tired, too. Cas's skin felt like silk when Dean smoothed across his waist under his new shirt. 

An indefinite amount of time longer he lay, enjoying his son's comfortable burrowing warmth and faint exhalations. He cursed the lights above them for not letting him fall asleep there. Eventually he rolled away and wrapped Cas in the blanket like a burrito. Now that Cas was sleeping on the floor, Dean had no choice but to carry him to his room. He hefted Cas onto his shoulder and walked to Cas's bed, then laid him down. According to the alarm clock, it was 8:30. He took Cas's slippers off, drew the covers up to his chin and kissed him goodnight, which Cas might have been embarrassed for if he was awake. "Love you, Cas," Dean whispered. 

He snuck out of the room, turning off the light behind him. He left the game set up in the living room, just in case Cas wanted to continue later and experience the joy of winning a game of Monopoly. There would always be more games to play tomorrow, Dean thought, and headed to his own bed. 

That night, when a fuzzy head appeared in is doorway, Dean knew he'd have to break Cas's habit of sleeping in his bed all the time. Or he'd have to work on his refusal skills. But for now he didn't refuse, and Cas crawled right into the empty space next to him and nuzzled his neck like he'd done earlier, like a stupid nosey puppy or something, warming Dean from the inside. Finally Dean cradled Cas in his arms and drifted to sleep.


End file.
